


This Little Patch of Ice

by azenki



Series: Chain Reaction [2]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Animal Death, Gen, Minor Character Death, also the gore is describing a dead animal so uh yeah, many liberties were taken, some mild gore at the start? it's like three sentences, the Southern Water Tribe is actually made up of a bunch of tribes/villages
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-25
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:49:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24911887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/azenki/pseuds/azenki
Summary: The steppe tribe declares war.The coastal tribe accepts it.Or: in a world where the Fire Nation didn't attack, Hakoda still leaves for war.
Relationships: Hakoda & Katara & Sokka (Avatar), Hakoda & Sokka (Avatar), Katara & Sokka (Avatar)
Series: Chain Reaction [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1756933
Comments: 10
Kudos: 233





	This Little Patch of Ice

**Author's Note:**

> the more i write for this au the sadder i get that the majority of it takes place in a spirited away au (an au within an au? it's more likely than you think)

They find the wolf at sunrise, a shapeless grey bundle just outside the borders of the village. Sokka’s still rubbing the sleep from his eyes, and it takes him a few moments to register what he’s seeing. By the time he does, Dad’s already turning to Bato and saying, “Get him out of here. He doesn’t need to see this.”

Sokka doesn’t need to see this, but he sees it anyway.

The wolf’s throat has been slit from ear to ear in one neat slice. A bright orange mark is smeared across its forehead. Its fur is matted with blood, frozen from a night on the tundra, and its neck is bent back at an unnatural angle. Sokka can see the tip of its broken spine poking through the flesh at the front of its neck, white as the glare of sunlight off snow.

Bato’s hand lands on his shoulder. “Come on,” he says grimly, steering Sokka away from the wolf. Sokka can’t tear his eyes away from it, even as the other men crowd around it in an effort to shield him from the sight. Dad crouches down next to it and runs a hesitant hand through its bloodstained fur.

Sokka’s eleven, but he’s not stupid. He knows the tensions between their village and the inland tribes have been pulled taut for months now, knows that there have been skirmishes and feuds and battles, knows that the orange mark on the wolf’s head belongs to Chief Khulan’s tribe, who’s been exchanging not-so-pleasant letters with Dad about territory and the prey that lives in that territory. Most importantly, he knows that the wolf is the symbol of _their_ tribe.

The wolf at the border is a message, loud and clear: _we are prepared for war._

He lets Bato maneuver him through the village, past the square and marketplace, both of which are empty in the early dawn light. He doesn’t really remember ducking into their igloo, but he must have, because quite suddenly he’s sitting on his bedroll with a warm bowl of stew cupped in his hands. Across the room, Bato and Gran-Gran are talking in low voices, barely audible over the quiet crackle of the fire. Sokka sips at his stew without really tasting it and looks over at Katara, still sleeping soundly in her bedroll. He wonders what life will be like if the inland tribes wage war. He knows they have horses that can ride faster than camel yaks. He knows they have hawks that can gauge out people’s eyes.

When Dad pokes his head into the igloo, Sokka’s bowl is empty and Gran-Gran is tutting disapprovingly at a still-sleeping Katara. He nods at Sokka, then gestures at Bato to follow. Bato uncurls from his cross-legged position and leaves the igloo, and Sokka knows that Dad’s called council.

He’s not supposed to eavesdrop, but is it really his fault that the mens’ voices carry? Okay, fine, he might be sitting a little closer to the igloo entrance than normal, but maybe he just wants some fresh air. 

“It’s _sacrilegious,”_ Anuk is saying, sounding vaguely fearful. “If we skin that wolf, the spirits will punish us tenfold.”

Sokka’s stomach drops. Yes, the wolf was huge, making it a valuable source for fur and pelts...but it’s also _a wolf._ Their animal.

“We kill wolves all the time,” Gilak argues. “What makes this any different?”

“We only kill what we need,” Dad corrects. “This was senseless murder.”

 _“We_ weren’t the ones who killed it,” Gilak mutters, and there’s a low murmur of agreement. “If the spirits decide to punish someone for the wolf’s death, then they’ll punish the ones who deserve it. I say skin the wolf.”

“Seconded,” Pilip says. “Winter is almost upon us. We need all the fur we can get.”

“If we all die from spirit sickness, I’m blaming this on Gilak,” Bato grumbles. “But I agree. Hypothermia, at least, is a threat that we know exists. Pilip is right. We need furs.”

Dad sighs. Sokka can imagine how he looks right now: scrubbing one hand over his face, tired and worn. “All in favour of skinning the wolf?”

There’s a brief stretch of silence. Anuk breaks it with an offended huff.

“When the spirits decide to kill us all, don’t you dare come crying to _me,”_ he says. The quiet chuckle that runs around the group almost — _almost_ —makes Sokka forget why the wolf was there in the first place.

But he doesn’t forget. And neither, it seems, do the men.

* * *

Dad leaves for a hunting trip the very next day. He takes Bato and Gilak and a few other trusted men, and they ride off on camel yaks with bows slung over their shoulders.

They return with a massive crane slung between them. Its wings are as long as Sokka’s arms. Its neck is long and lolling, leading down into a snow-white body that’s perfect for blending in with the terrain. But the crane’s camouflage wasn’t perfect enough, if the arrow in its breast is any indication.

Their village doesn’t have much use for cranes beyond their meager meat. Bird bones are hollow, making them useless for spearheads and weapons, and you’d need two dozen cranes to make yourself a functional cloak. Sokka knows exactly why Dad’s gone and killed a crane, then brought it back with their tribe’s arrow still fixed firmly in its chest.

The white crane is the symbol of the steppe tribe. Chief Khulan’s tribe. The tribe who’d slit a wolf’s sacred throat and left it bleeding at the village border.

Anuk sets off in the dead of night with the crane draped over his saddlebags. He returns in the morning, wind-swept and breathless, and says, “The deed is done.”

* * *

The steppe tribe declares war.

The coastal tribe accepts it.

* * *

As chief, Dad’s advised to remain home in the village for the very first battle. They send out two dozen men, which doesn’t seem like much, but Sokka remembers that the steppe tribe has around the same number of people they do and understands. 

The men fight for seven days and seven nights. On the eighth day, a letter arrives, requesting backup.

Dad sends backup. A month later, the backup requests more backup.

Over the course of a year, the number of men remaining at home slowly dwindles. Dad wants to go and fight with them, wants to die alongside them or not at all, but the council tells him _you’re the chief, you’re needed here, the village will collapse without you._ So Dad stays, and Bato stays, until finally even Bato is called to war.

That’s when the news comes that Chief Khulan is riding to the battlefield. That night, Dad puts on his armour and paints his face and hugs Sokka and Katara so, so tight.

The next morning, he’s gone. 

* * *

After Dad leaves, Sokka is the only remaining male of the tribe who’s over four years old. Too old to not know how to fight, too young to actually put his skills to use. It’s infuriating, but it’s the deal that he’s got.

Dad sends letters every so often, telling them how the fighting’s going, telling them that they’ve gained territory over Kivioq’s Ravine. He asks if Katara’s waterbending has improved (it hasn’t) and if Sokka’s learnt how to properly throw a boomerang (he has). He reminds Sokka to never let down his guard, because for all they know an ambush from the steppe tribe could come at any moment.

So Sokka patrols the village by himself (not totally by himself, because Katara’s stubborn as hell and insists that she can fend off attackers with her bending) and keeps their defenses up. The other boys in the village grow a little older—Unayak is seven, now—and he teaches them the basics. He neglects to mention that the basics he’s teaching them aren’t the basics he learnt; he’s teaching them how to fight dirty, how to use their surroundings to their advantage.

(“Always go for the crotch,” he tells them. It’s not the brightest idea he’s ever had, seeing as they immediately go for the crotch. His crotch. Turns out seven-year-olds can kick hard, especially when they’re bored and don’t want to learn how to fight.)

He hunts. He patrols. He defends. He yells at Katara for nearly killing him with a falling ice shelf while they’re out fishing. He apologises to Katara when he spooks her so much she nearly kills them _both_ with a falling ice shelf. He has a panic attack when Gran-Gran falls ill, certain that she’ll die from the same winter sickness that killed his mother. He cries when Gran-Gran makes a full recovery. He doesn’t mention it in their letter to Dad. He chews out Katara when she _does_ mention it in their letter to Dad. He hunts more. Patrols more. Defends more.

He turns fourteen. 

He’s meant to go ice-dodging, but there’s no one left to take him.

He turns fifteen.

Katara breaks an iceberg. Everything changes from there.

* * *

Aang is twelve. 

_Twelve._

Gods, did Sokka look that young when Dad went off to war? Was he that short?

Nah. He couldn’t be. 

Aang being twelve—well, technically he’s a hundred and sixty-two, but that’s all moot considering he’s still got baby fat on his cheeks—is the least concerning thing about him. The _most_ concerning thing about him is that, well, he’s an airbender.

The airbenders all died out a hundred and fifty years ago. So did the waterbenders. And the earthbenders. And the firebenders. Katara is the first bender to be born to their village in over sixty years.

But Aang’s here, and he’s twelve and alive and an airbender. More than that, he’s an airbending _master._ Katara’s envy is practically tangible. 

And then, like the horribly impulsive naive kid she is, Katara declares that she’s leaving.

She’s going with Aang. They’re going to see if they can find other benders, maybe pick up a master or two along the way. Sokka tries his best to talk her out of it, but she won’t be persuaded.

Well, now he’s stuck between a rock and a cold place. He really doesn’t want to leave their village undefended, but Katara and Aang are so _naive_ and trusting and innocent and—

Well, shit. He’s going to have to go with them, isn’t he?

...Yeah. He is.

When he brings it up at dinner, after Katara’s dragged Aang out to show him the rest of the village, Gran-Gran just arches an eyebrow at him like she knew this day would come.

“I just don’t want to leave you defenseless,” he says, and she scoffs. 

“We have an armoury full of weapons and a snow wall twice my height,” she tells him matter-of-factly. “Somehow, I think we’ll be okay.”

* * *

They send a last-minute letter to Dad with Ikiq’s old albatross-raven, who hasn’t flown outside the village in nearly five years. The bird’s feathers are grey and patchy, but Ikiq assures them he’ll be able to make the flight. 

They pack a boat full of supplies, and Sokka frantically runs through everything Dad and Bato ever taught him about sailing as they prepare to set off. He’s never actually sailed a boat before, not by himself, and he knows there are more jobs than three kids can handle.

But he hadn’t counted on one of those kids being an airbender. Aang can direct the boat pretty much any way he wants with barely a second thought. Katara does her best to bend the currents, but she’s still a self-taught novice. In the end, Aang does most of the heavy lifting while Katara crouches by the rail and Sokka tries desperately not to have a breakdown in front of the entire village.

He hugs Gran-Gran so tight he lifts her off her feet. She hugs him right back with her frail little old woman arms. Katara joins in, and for a few moments they’re one big squishy family hug.

Gran-Gran pulls away first, setting one gloved hand on each of their shoulders. “I’m very proud of you,” she tells them seriously, and points an accusatory finger at Sokka. “You. Keep your sister safe, you hear me?”

Sokka holds up his hands. “Loud and clear, Gran-Gran. Loud and clear.”

She chuckles and ruffles his hair, then nudges both him and Katara towards the boat. “Go. _Go,_ you insufferable children. This little patch of ice can’t hold you both forever.”

Katara throws her arms around Gran-Gran one last time. Sokka watches as she kisses Gran-Gran’s cheek and slowly slips away, hopping onto the boat with a glance over her shoulder. He takes a deep breath and turns to the rest of the village—specifically, to Unayak, who’s now seven-and-a-half and officially the oldest boy in the tribe.

“Remember what I taught you,” he says, and Unayak nods. “What’s rule number one?”

“Always go for the crotch,” Unayak recites solemnly. “Does this mean I don’t have to get up in the morning anymore?”

Sokka sighs. “Yes, Unayak. You don’t have to get up in the mornings anymore.”

Unayak does a little fist pump that Sokka pretends not to see. He nods at Ikiq, salutes Nuvua, and turns his back on his home.

Aang jumps up onto the mast and nudges them out towards open sea with a gentle push of his hands. The sails fill with wind, and soon enough the boat is cruising at a leisurely pace, weaving between floating ice with ease.

As they leave the Southern Water Tribe to venture out into the world, Sokka looks back. The rest of the village is still standing there, clustered at the edge of the ice, and he thinks Gran-Gran was probably right.

They’re going to be okay.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! ch10 of cause and effect should be up pretty soon :)


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